Digital & Print Membership
Yearly + Receive 8 free printed back issues
$420 Annually
Monthly + Receive 3 free printed back issues
$40 Monthly
Malak Mattar
I couldn’t see colors anymore
CÉLINE: Where are you now? In which part of the world?
MALAK: I live in London now.
CÉLINE: How was your show?
MALAK: It was a group show with other artists, mostly Turkish and Lebanese. It was a really fun experience. The theme was about home and belonging.
CÉLINE: I wanted to ask you, in your work, there is a palpable sense of home, of belonging. As a Palestinian artist, how do you navigate the line between your personal and the political in your paintings?
MALAK: I don’t feel like there’s anything to align between the personal and the political, because everything I do, whether I like it or not, is political, but I always make sure that it reflects my own personal thoughts, my personal feelings, my family, everything in my present life…
CÉLINE: Your art has traveled beyond Gaza; it’s reaching international audiences. What does it mean for you to share your art with the rest of the world, to share how it has been for you as a Palestinian person?
MALAK: It feels like a beauty being postponed, and it’s like growing up.
You grow up as an artist, and you’re given this title, not only as an artist, but as a voice.
Every time I speak to my family back home, it’s like, what are you working on? Are you producing paintings? Can you share our struggle? Can you share what we are going through? Can you make our voices heard? When my work reaches beyond my studio, it feels like I’m doing what I can, I’m fulfilling my role as a creative.
CÉLINE: Do you feel like it is your responsibility as an artist to carry the voices and the stories of your people?
MALAK: Absolutely. Throughout our history, art has always reflected and documented the political struggle, starting with artists who painted the Nakba, painted their personal stories in 1948 when they were displaced. I found, while growing up in Palestine, an art scene that was blooming and expanding despite the restrictions [by the Occupation] on art materials. Artists have always been very resilient… making alternatives to paints, by using natural pigments, alternatives to canvas, by using other paper, and other materials. Every time art supplies were banned or restricted, artists came up with alternatives. Creation is urgent in the context of Palestine.
CÉLINE: Where did you grow up?
MALAK: In Gaza.
CÉLINE: Who are the artists who have inspired you?
MALAK: I was exposed to Western art in my family house: Van Gogh’s flowers, Edgar Degas’ dancers, Leonardo DaVinci… I saw these reproductions on the walls growing up. My maternal uncle, Nimit Abu Mazen, is an art professor, but he’s also a multimedia artist. He was born in the ‘50s, and he was a teacher for decades, but it’s important to mention that the United Nations commissioned him to do all the school boards in Arabic. For decades, he worked on that while also teaching. His production was very slow, but his work was very, very beautiful. It focused on women from Palestine… So I grew up in a very artistic household.
CELINE: You mentioned restrictions on canvases. What other things was the Israeli occupation forbidding from entering the Gaza Strip when it comes to art materials?
MALAK: I struggled to find canvases, especially after wars, and it took months, sometimes a year… At times, I actually had to smuggle canvases into Gaza… usually through expats who worked in Jerusalem. They bought canvases and brushes and came to Gaza. They were not checked by the soldiers, so they were able to bring art supplies. And that’s how I used to paint in 2021 because for months after the May attack, art supplies were not allowed entry… The art supply stores were bombed in 2021. There’s one store called Pins and Pens. It was in the very center of the city, and it was demolished. And there’s another art supply store that was also demolished. The destruction of art and culture has been going on for many, many years, not just since October.
CELINE: Why do you think the Israeli occupation is afraid of art?
MALAK: They’re afraid of humanization. I would say it’s not art in particular, but any act of us celebrating or painting or writing and sharing poetry is seen as a threat. When the state is built on the delusion that the Other or the Indigenous doesn’t matter, they are dehumanized.
When the Indigenous are called vulgar and are labeled as terrorists, you strip away their humanity. So, any act of humanization becomes a threat because it radically changes the narrative. These people have artists, artistry, an art scene, and art centers. They celebrate theaters. They have book launches. They have music conservatories. Then, they’re not quite the terrorists that the media has portrayed them as…
CELINE: In your paintings, you often use vivid colors and almost dream-like images. What role does symbolism play in your work? And what do you hope your viewers take away from these images?
MALAK: I started painting in 2014 following the murder of my neighbor. She was standing in front of me, two blocks away, and she was torn into pieces. And growing up in the art environment, I was always painting, but not in a cathartic way and not on a daily basis. But since that time, I was driven by an urgency to make political art. I needed to find a way to survive and to distract myself from what I was seeing. There was destruction, there was blood, there was motherhood under bombardment. Then, I started gaining more attention and a following. This gave me a lot of hope. That my struggle was seen. That there were people who really cared. That gave me a sense of mission.
My work started becoming more a celebration, more beautiful. I celebrated the sun, birds, the flowers, and the beauty of the landscape, which I had enjoyed growing up. But then, after October 7, I stopped using colors. I was like, khallas (in Arabic, primarily means “done,” “finished,” “it’s over,” or “enough,” Google AI). This was beyond my worst expectations. I departed from my older style, which was vivid and beautiful, because I just couldn’t see colors anymore. It’s such a depressing time. I’m now slowly going back to colors, but not with the same sense of joy, because I struggle to find joy when my people are being starved.
CÉLINE: Yeah… what colors are you using now?
MALAK: I am using mostly black and white. There is one I showed from 2021; it’s called You and I, which is like two figures embracing each other. And the rest was work I did recently. One of them is a large painting called Gaza. It’s a Phoenix with other elements.
CÉLINE: What is coming for you in the next few months? Your career as an artist has been blossoming. You just illustrated the book of Francesca Albanese (an Italian legal scholar and expert on human rights who has served as the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the occupied Palestinian territories since May 1, 2022, Wikipedia). How did that come about? You and Francesca collaborating together, and what’s coming up for you in the next six months?
MALAK: I met Francesca back in 2010. There is a chapter in her book about how we met, about my life story, and our first meeting in London. When exhibition that the school held, and Francesca was visiting. She asked me if I was selling my work. And I was like, no, they’re not for sale. I was very shy, but then a few years later, she discovered my work, and she made the connection that I was the same child she had met back in 2010, and then we met in London. We spoke, I went to her events, and we had dinners together. And, yeah, before the book came about, she said that she would love to have my work on the cover.
CÉLINE: I love that for you. In the face of ongoing displacement and violence in Palestine, how do you see your work being of service… I think you touched on it in the beginning, saying that it’s the humanization. But if you can expand a little bit more on that and tell me how your work is really an instrument of the liberation.
MALAK: Two million people are starving. When I think of that, it makes me feel that I’m not really doing anything, and then I’m dismissive of my work. I’m being honest. I’m just really doing my role as an artist. Yes, I’m part of the culture. But it’s hard for me to say anything when the genocide is still running, when people are really starving. I don’t feel like liberation can happen from London; I don’t think liberation happens from Paris. We’re protesting, and that’s what we should do. It’s an active protest. In this moment of our history, we are in so much pain and so much trauma…
CÉLINE: I also feel like we are not doing anything or enough. Nothing feels enough. How do you feel about that?
MALAK: It sucks. It’s like this feeling of helplessness. But I also don’t blame myself, because I know that it’s bigger than us.
CÉLINE: Did you lose your home?
MALAK: The family house: it has been flattened. My uncle’s collection, the work he collected… it has all been flattened.
CÉLINE: Oh my God, I’m so sorry. How long have you been in London?
MALAK: I left the day before the seventh of October.
CÉLINE: Oh, my God, really? How did you manage to leave?
MALAK: I was doing my Master of Fine Arts in London at Central Saint Martins. And I was supposed to leave in September, and I couldn’t; I went to the border, and they sent me back. They finally let me cross the border on the fifth of October, through Jordan, and then the sixth of October was officially my first day in London.
CÉLINE: And the next day, October 7.
MALAK: I saw the news, and I was like, I’ve got things to do. I’m running late to my class. But then my mom texted me. She said, the minute I left, they bombed my school. Then they started their evacuation journey. The men got separated from the women, and then they all went south. I come from the north, from Gaza City. But they all went south and stayed there for months, and then they managed to leave.
CÉLINE: Now they are gone?
MALAK: Yeah, they are. They left in March 2024, to Egypt for one year, and they came to London just last month. Yes, we are united. And I had to go to the court to bring them here legally, because they were not allowed entry to the UK. Their visas were rejected. So we had to fight for that family reunification.
{
"article":
{
"title" : "Malak Mattar: I couldn’t see colors anymore",
"author" : "Malak Mattar, Céline Semaan",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/malak-mattar",
"date" : "2025-09-08 10:10:59 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/malak-mattar--war-1.jpg",
"excerpt" : "",
"content" : "CÉLINE: Where are you now? In which part of the world?MALAK: I live in London now.CÉLINE: How was your show?MALAK: It was a group show with other artists, mostly Turkish and Lebanese. It was a really fun experience. The theme was about home and belonging.CÉLINE: I wanted to ask you, in your work, there is a palpable sense of home, of belonging. As a Palestinian artist, how do you navigate the line between your personal and the political in your paintings?MALAK: I don’t feel like there’s anything to align between the personal and the political, because everything I do, whether I like it or not, is political, but I always make sure that it reflects my own personal thoughts, my personal feelings, my family, everything in my present life…CÉLINE: Your art has traveled beyond Gaza; it’s reaching international audiences. What does it mean for you to share your art with the rest of the world, to share how it has been for you as a Palestinian person?MALAK: It feels like a beauty being postponed, and it’s like growing up. You grow up as an artist, and you’re given this title, not only as an artist, but as a voice.Every time I speak to my family back home, it’s like, what are you working on? Are you producing paintings? Can you share our struggle? Can you share what we are going through? Can you make our voices heard? When my work reaches beyond my studio, it feels like I’m doing what I can, I’m fulfilling my role as a creative.CÉLINE: Do you feel like it is your responsibility as an artist to carry the voices and the stories of your people?MALAK: Absolutely. Throughout our history, art has always reflected and documented the political struggle, starting with artists who painted the Nakba, painted their personal stories in 1948 when they were displaced. I found, while growing up in Palestine, an art scene that was blooming and expanding despite the restrictions [by the Occupation] on art materials. Artists have always been very resilient… making alternatives to paints, by using natural pigments, alternatives to canvas, by using other paper, and other materials. Every time art supplies were banned or restricted, artists came up with alternatives. Creation is urgent in the context of Palestine.CÉLINE: Where did you grow up?MALAK: In Gaza.CÉLINE: Who are the artists who have inspired you?MALAK: I was exposed to Western art in my family house: Van Gogh’s flowers, Edgar Degas’ dancers, Leonardo DaVinci… I saw these reproductions on the walls growing up. My maternal uncle, Nimit Abu Mazen, is an art professor, but he’s also a multimedia artist. He was born in the ‘50s, and he was a teacher for decades, but it’s important to mention that the United Nations commissioned him to do all the school boards in Arabic. For decades, he worked on that while also teaching. His production was very slow, but his work was very, very beautiful. It focused on women from Palestine… So I grew up in a very artistic household.CELINE: You mentioned restrictions on canvases. What other things was the Israeli occupation forbidding from entering the Gaza Strip when it comes to art materials?MALAK: I struggled to find canvases, especially after wars, and it took months, sometimes a year… At times, I actually had to smuggle canvases into Gaza… usually through expats who worked in Jerusalem. They bought canvases and brushes and came to Gaza. They were not checked by the soldiers, so they were able to bring art supplies. And that’s how I used to paint in 2021 because for months after the May attack, art supplies were not allowed entry… The art supply stores were bombed in 2021. There’s one store called Pins and Pens. It was in the very center of the city, and it was demolished. And there’s another art supply store that was also demolished. The destruction of art and culture has been going on for many, many years, not just since October.CELINE: Why do you think the Israeli occupation is afraid of art?MALAK: They’re afraid of humanization. I would say it’s not art in particular, but any act of us celebrating or painting or writing and sharing poetry is seen as a threat. When the state is built on the delusion that the Other or the Indigenous doesn’t matter, they are dehumanized. When the Indigenous are called vulgar and are labeled as terrorists, you strip away their humanity. So, any act of humanization becomes a threat because it radically changes the narrative. These people have artists, artistry, an art scene, and art centers. They celebrate theaters. They have book launches. They have music conservatories. Then, they’re not quite the terrorists that the media has portrayed them as…CELINE: In your paintings, you often use vivid colors and almost dream-like images. What role does symbolism play in your work? And what do you hope your viewers take away from these images?MALAK: I started painting in 2014 following the murder of my neighbor. She was standing in front of me, two blocks away, and she was torn into pieces. And growing up in the art environment, I was always painting, but not in a cathartic way and not on a daily basis. But since that time, I was driven by an urgency to make political art. I needed to find a way to survive and to distract myself from what I was seeing. There was destruction, there was blood, there was motherhood under bombardment. Then, I started gaining more attention and a following. This gave me a lot of hope. That my struggle was seen. That there were people who really cared. That gave me a sense of mission.My work started becoming more a celebration, more beautiful. I celebrated the sun, birds, the flowers, and the beauty of the landscape, which I had enjoyed growing up. But then, after October 7, I stopped using colors. I was like, khallas (in Arabic, primarily means “done,” “finished,” “it’s over,” or “enough,” Google AI). This was beyond my worst expectations. I departed from my older style, which was vivid and beautiful, because I just couldn’t see colors anymore. It’s such a depressing time. I’m now slowly going back to colors, but not with the same sense of joy, because I struggle to find joy when my people are being starved.CÉLINE: Yeah… what colors are you using now?MALAK: I am using mostly black and white. There is one I showed from 2021; it’s called You and I, which is like two figures embracing each other. And the rest was work I did recently. One of them is a large painting called Gaza. It’s a Phoenix with other elements.CÉLINE: What is coming for you in the next few months? Your career as an artist has been blossoming. You just illustrated the book of Francesca Albanese (an Italian legal scholar and expert on human rights who has served as the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the occupied Palestinian territories since May 1, 2022, Wikipedia). How did that come about? You and Francesca collaborating together, and what’s coming up for you in the next six months?MALAK: I met Francesca back in 2010. There is a chapter in her book about how we met, about my life story, and our first meeting in London. When exhibition that the school held, and Francesca was visiting. She asked me if I was selling my work. And I was like, no, they’re not for sale. I was very shy, but then a few years later, she discovered my work, and she made the connection that I was the same child she had met back in 2010, and then we met in London. We spoke, I went to her events, and we had dinners together. And, yeah, before the book came about, she said that she would love to have my work on the cover.CÉLINE: I love that for you. In the face of ongoing displacement and violence in Palestine, how do you see your work being of service… I think you touched on it in the beginning, saying that it’s the humanization. But if you can expand a little bit more on that and tell me how your work is really an instrument of the liberation.MALAK: Two million people are starving. When I think of that, it makes me feel that I’m not really doing anything, and then I’m dismissive of my work. I’m being honest. I’m just really doing my role as an artist. Yes, I’m part of the culture. But it’s hard for me to say anything when the genocide is still running, when people are really starving. I don’t feel like liberation can happen from London; I don’t think liberation happens from Paris. We’re protesting, and that’s what we should do. It’s an active protest. In this moment of our history, we are in so much pain and so much trauma…CÉLINE: I also feel like we are not doing anything or enough. Nothing feels enough. How do you feel about that?MALAK: It sucks. It’s like this feeling of helplessness. But I also don’t blame myself, because I know that it’s bigger than us.CÉLINE: Did you lose your home?MALAK: The family house: it has been flattened. My uncle’s collection, the work he collected… it has all been flattened.CÉLINE: Oh my God, I’m so sorry. How long have you been in London?MALAK: I left the day before the seventh of October.CÉLINE: Oh, my God, really? How did you manage to leave?MALAK: I was doing my Master of Fine Arts in London at Central Saint Martins. And I was supposed to leave in September, and I couldn’t; I went to the border, and they sent me back. They finally let me cross the border on the fifth of October, through Jordan, and then the sixth of October was officially my first day in London.CÉLINE: And the next day, October 7.MALAK: I saw the news, and I was like, I’ve got things to do. I’m running late to my class. But then my mom texted me. She said, the minute I left, they bombed my school. Then they started their evacuation journey. The men got separated from the women, and then they all went south. I come from the north, from Gaza City. But they all went south and stayed there for months, and then they managed to leave.CÉLINE: Now they are gone?MALAK: Yeah, they are. They left in March 2024, to Egypt for one year, and they came to London just last month. Yes, we are united. And I had to go to the court to bring them here legally, because they were not allowed entry to the UK. Their visas were rejected. So we had to fight for that family reunification."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Couture in Paris, Cuts at the 'Post'",
"author" : "Louis Pisano",
"category" : "essay",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/bezos-sanchez-paris-couture-week-wapo-layoffs",
"date" : "2026-02-02 10:49:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Bezos_Sanchez_Pisano.jpg",
"excerpt" : "The Cruel Irony of the Bezos-Sánchez Empire",
"content" : "The Cruel Irony of the Bezos-Sánchez EmpireLate on January 25, as snow dusted Washington, about 60 foreign correspondents at The Washington Post hit send on an email that felt like a last stand. They had dodged gunfire in Ukraine, documented Iran’s water crises and protester crackdowns, risked sources’ lives in gang territories. Now they faced their own existential threat: rumors of up to 300 company-wide layoffs, with foreign desks, sports, metro, and arts likely gutted. Their collective letter to owner Jeff Bezos was direct, almost pleading.“Robust, powerful foreign coverage is essential to The Washington Post’s brand and its future success in whatever form the paper takes moving forward,” they wrote. “We urge you to consider how the proposed layoffs will certainly lead us first to irrelevance, not the shared success that remains attainable.” They offered flexibility on costs but drew a line: slashing overseas reporting in Trump’s second term, amid global flashpoints, would hollow out the institution they had built.Whether Bezos opened that email remains unclear. As of this writing, he has not publicly responded to it. In fact, Bezos was 4,000 miles away, strolling hand-in-hand with Lauren Sánchez Bezos into Schiaparelli’s Haute Couture show in Paris. Flashbulbs popped as they arrived, Sánchez in a blood red skirt suit from the house and a white crocodile bag. Hours on, she switched to a steel-blue-gray vintage Dior pencil-skirt suit, its enormous fur collar evoking a mob wife, for Jonathan Anderson’s couture debut with the house.The two didn’t just sit front row, either. Backstage at Dior, Bezos and Sánchez posed with Anderson and LVMH CEO Delphine Arnault. Sánchez lunched with Anna Wintour at The Ritz and was allegedly dressed by Law Roach, the “image architect” behind Zendaya’s accession to fashion darling, who once declared fashion’s power to challenge norms and amplify the marginalized. Roach reshared Sánchez’s Instagram stories, crediting the vintage Dior; later, they toured Schiaparelli’s atelier together. The partnership felt sudden and loaded.Back in D.C., the newsroom simmered. Staffers posted on X under #SaveThePost, Yeganeh Torbati recounting government violence against protesters, Loveday Morris describing blasts rattling windows and the mortal risks to sources, tagging Bezos directly in urgent appeals. In a guild-prompted twist meant to amplify the message, the Washington-Baltimore News Guild encouraged tagging even Lauren Sánchez, though not every reporter followed through. The betrayal stung deeper after years of buyouts, a libertarian-tilted Opinions section, a rebranded mission (“Riveting Storytelling for All of America”) that rang corporate. Losses topped $100 million in 2024 and now the axe is hovering over desks that produced the scoops Bezos once praised when he bought the paper for $250 million in 2013. Now, Bezos parties on in Paris, his wife climbing fashion’s ranks.While the billionaires party, a profound unease is permeating the American media landscape, exacerbated by political shifts and technological disruptions that empower owners like Bezos to sideline core missions in favor of personal ventures. The press, once a vigilant watchdog against authority, now frequently finds itself complicit with power structures, buckling under misinformation, partisan censorship, and budgetary constraints that stifle investigative depth. This dynamic deprives the public of the unflinching journalism that is capable of exposing foreign policy overreaches or everyday human struggle, amplified by economic slowdowns and subscription fatigue in an increasingly fragmented ecosystem. With eroding confidence driving audiences to social platforms, now eclipsing traditional TV and websites as the primary news source in the U.S., the fallout further deepens this public distrust.To be clear, fashion isn’t innocent in this. It loves to posture as progressive, touting body positivity, diversity, resistance as it’s relevant, but rolling out the red carpet for the ultra-rich when the checks clear, especially when the checks come from people whose fortunes are built on real harm. Once upon a time, you couldn’t simply buy your way into the Met Gala; invitations were curated by Wintour based on cultural relevance, creative influence, and a carefully guarded sense of who truly belonged in the room. That’s all over now. The Bezoses have turned every norm in fashion on its head, sponsoring the 2026 Met Gala (funding the event and reportedly influencing invites), making their debut as a couple in 2024, and now leveraging those ties to claim space in couture’s inner circles. Bezos and Sánchez’s couture jaunt is just the latest proof that fashion’s gates, once guarded by creativity and taste, now swing widest for raw wealth and access.Wintour lunches and their prominent sponsorship role in the Met Gala don’t help quell the whispers that Bezos is eyeing Condé Nast (Vogue, Vanity Fair, The New Yorker) as a “wedding gift” to Sánchez. Rumors denied yet persistent, revived by every Paris sighting.Not everyone in fashion is staying silent. Some insiders are pushing back hard against the normalization. Gabriella Karefa-Johnson, a longtime voice in the industry, posted bluntly on X: “The hyper normalization is doing my head in… keep your mouth shut about ICE if you’re mingling with them, seating them, dressing them. Accepting their cash.” She called out Amazon’s cloud systems as the backbone of DHS deportation operations and billions in government contracts that sustain what she called “Trump’s terror machine,” concluding that Bezos and Sánchez are at couture simply because they are rich—and their wealth comes from profoundly harming millions daily. “I feel crazy,” she wrote. While couture has always been a bastian of the uber-rich, Karefa-Johnson’s frustration underscores how even fashion’s own are starting to question the cost of that welcome.If that Conde-Nast deal ever materializes, the consequences would compound because control over fashion’s most influential titles would allow Bezos the opportunity to shape narratives around billionaires, soften coverage of labor abuses, environmental costs, or surveillance contracts. The same hand that funds AWS’s CIA contracts, DoD cloud deals, ICE enforcement tools, fossil-fuel operations, warehouse injuries, anti-union tactics, and small-business-crushing monopoly would quietly steer the stories about wealth and style. Already deferential to its biggest advertisers and attendees, fashion journalism would fold into the same closed loop, fusing tech dominance with cultural gatekeeping into one unassailable private empire—all of it ultimately bankrolling the yachts, the space joyrides with Katy Perry, the private-jet hops to couture shows and fashion influence, to polish an image that the Post’s own reporters once might have skewered.[x] It’s almost elegant the way one empire’s dirt gets laundered through another.It’s cruelly ironic how wide the gap between the risks assumed by WaPo correspondents tasked with holding power to account and the comfort with which their owner moves among the powerful in Paris actually is. Fashion has political power, as Roach once said. It can challenge and provoke. It can also resist. But when it courts figures like Bezos, whose empire thrives on the very inequalities it sometimes pretends to critique, it becomes another asset in his already enormous portfolio.But there is no challenge, no provocation. There is no major resistance. Instead, there’s champagne and constant disassociation. Somewhere between the clink of glasses and the photos, Bezos and his wife get a glow up while The Washington Post newsroom waits, knowing the cuts are coming but not yet here. No one is confused about what happened; this is simply how the trade now unfortunately works.Wealth drifts through media, fashion, culture, picking up prestige and shedding people along the way. Whether Bezos ever read the letter is beside the point. The stranger thing is how little anyone expects him, or anyone like him, to answer anymore."
}
,
{
"title" : "Why We Must Bring Disability into Immigrant Liberation",
"author" : "Conchita Hernandez Legorreta, Qudsiya Naqui",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/disability-immigrant-liberation",
"date" : "2026-02-02 09:49:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Disability-Immigration-Collage-Compressed.jpeg",
"excerpt" : "It is the only way to move toward collective liberation.",
"content" : "It is the only way to move toward collective liberation.A vertical digital collage in shades of orange, teal, and blue. In the background, a semi-transparent AAC communication device displays the text “I can help.” The top left shows a woman with a hearing aid in profile. On the right, a woman in a black headscarf gestures toward her ear. At the bottom, a woman and a child stand on a bed of large, realistic ice cubes; both are using white canes for the blind. Orange sparks float across the center, and the overall style is grainy, reminiscent of a Riso-printed protest zine. Illustration Credit: Jennifer White-JohnsonThe deadly surge of ICE agents in Minneapolis and across the country has wreaked havoc across communities, with particularly dangerous consequences for disabled people. In one instance on January 15, 2026, a woman in Minneapolis, Aliya Rahman, was pulled from her car and into an ICE vehicle, despite telling the ICE agents that she was on her way to a doctor’s appointment. The woman explained that she was autistic and needed accommodations, which the ICE agents readily ignored.The reentrenchment of ableism in Trump 2.0 is everywhere. In July 2025, for example, the president issued an executive order, “Ending Crime and Disorder on America’s Streets,” which seeks to overturn decades of progress for disabled people. The “R- word,” a slur against people with cognitive disabilities and a word that so many activists fought to eliminate from our daily lexicon, is back in full force. And for many immigrants with disabilities, the cultural landscape is more treacherous than ever: since Trump’s ascent, his administration has continued to double down on a centuries-old legacy of ableism and maltreatment of disabled immigrants. Most recently, the State Department announced that it will suspend the processing of immigrant visas from 75 countries because their citizens are collectively deemed likely to become reliant on public assistance if admitted into the U.S. This not only reflects our government’s racist and xenophobic approach to immigration—it is also a clear manifestation of its contempt for disabled people, or anyone perceived as unable to produce the labor that drives American capitalism.This is why conversations about disability must be central to the movement for immigrant justice. When we create resources and protections for the most marginalized, we move closer to liberation for all immigrant communities.The term “no le digas a nadie” or “do not tell anyone” is a phrase many immigrants know and take to heart. It speaks to the fear that, if you tell the wrong person, your life and your family’s can be turned upside down. This is felt tenfold by disabled immigrants: Today, an estimated 1 in 4 Americans has a disability. With over 15.2 million immigrants in the United States, a large portion may have disabilities, even if they do not identify as having one. Disability is often stigmatized, leading people to hide their conditions or have less access to information and services. Disability is also the only minority group that anyone can join at any time, whether from birth, through chronic illness, or accident. What’s more, many people become disabled as they travel long distances to cross borders. The immigration system itself creates disability in the violence of enforcement and the terrible conditions of immigrant detention.As a formerly undocumented blind educator and a blind law professor who has spent the past 15 years advocating for immigrant and disability justice, we understand firsthand the added layer that comes with being disabled, in addition to being a target of immigration enforcement. One of us (Conchita) remembers feeling anxious to go outside while growing up undocumented, for fear of having any type of encounter with law enforcement. She and her family were terrified of disclosing any information to the wrong person who might report them to immigration officials. As a result, Conchita hid her immigration and disability status from most people. This led to a lack of information and access to resources, as well as exclusion from a community that could have supported her.Conchita’s story is not unique. We have heard countless accounts of disabled immigrants being arrested and detained without basic access to the tools they need to communicate and defend themselves. In November 2025, ICE detained a blind man in New York and denied him access to his white cane and a text-to-speech app on his phone that he needed in order to read legal documents. A few months before that, in June, a Deaf man lawfully present in the U.S. was arrested in Los Angeles, and even though he signaled to the ICE agents that he could not speak, he was thrown into a vehicle and sent to a detention center without any communication about why he was being detained. ICE took away his phone when he attempted to communicate, and when he arrived at the detention facility in El Paso, Texas, he was provided with documents in Spanish, a language he cannot read. In all of these situations, lack of accessibility led to needless incarceration and family separation without fair due process.But despite this struggle, ableism, disability, and accessibility are rarely discussed in the fight for immigrant justice. Activists on the front lines of immigration work often do not understand the full scope of disability and its impact on people’s lives. Many immigration advocates tend to be on a shoestring budget and have told us, “We do not have the capacity right now” when we’ve asked to make immigration resources accessible, or to grow their understanding of disability rights laws and the lived experiences of disabled people. Not to mention, disabled lawyers and legal advocates are grossly underrepresented in their professions, and as a consequence, this perspective, including making critical legal information accessible to all, is not part of the conversation. For instance, videos that show how to confront ICE should include captions, transcripts, and audio descriptions, but rarely do.This became clear to us when we presented a “Know Your Rights” webinar to support disabled immigrants in August 2025, as ICE enforcement actions expanded across the country. To our surprise, over 150 people attended the webinar, including disabled immigrants and their allies concerned about how they would protect themselves if they encountered ICE. We received questions like, “What do I do if I’m blind and I’m presented with a paper warrant I can’t read?” or “What if ICE agents take my phone and I can’t signal to them that I’m deaf and need an interpreter?”What many people tend to forget is that when accessibility and inclusion are part of the conversation for any movement work, the result benefits everyone. We saw this during the COVID-19 pandemic, when immigration and disability rights advocates came together to challenge the detention of those at risk of severe illness or death using federal disability rights laws. This helped reduce transmission rates, reaffirm fair legal standards for all, and strengthen public health by giving everyone accessible vaccination information and even food resources. Designing a world and protections that help people with disabilities is just as crucial to our advocacy as organizing protests, defending individuals in deportation cases, and lobbying our lawmakers to support more humane immigration policies.Our plea to immigration advocates is that they make it a priority to understand the full extent of how immigration and disability justice intersect. They can do this by educating themselves on disability rights laws that apply in detention centers and when people come into contact with federal, state, and local law enforcement. Immigration advocates must also ensure that legal information and other educational content they produce are accessible to everyone.Above all, they must form coalitions with people with disabilities and incorporate their ideas into all advocacy efforts. Because our shared survival depends on the survival of every individual and community affected by this administration. Bringing disability into the immigrant struggle is the only way to move toward collective access, cross-movement solidarity, and collective liberation."
}
,
{
"title" : "Against Dictators and Intervention: Sahar Delijani on Iran",
"author" : "Sahar Delijani, Céline Semaan",
"category" : "interviews",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/sahar-delijani-on-iran",
"date" : "2026-02-01 16:53:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/2026_01_29_Sahar_Interview_1.jpg",
"excerpt" : "CÉLINE:These are very difficult times as we are watching what’s happening in Iran unfolding in such a rapid pace, there are numbers that are coming out in the news: first we saw a few thousand, then we saw 5000 reported on Democracy Now! and recently, we have gone from 30,000 to 45,000 people massacred in Iran. What is the latest that you’ve heard from your end, from Iranian sources?",
"content" : "CÉLINE:These are very difficult times as we are watching what’s happening in Iran unfolding in such a rapid pace, there are numbers that are coming out in the news: first we saw a few thousand, then we saw 5000 reported on Democracy Now! and recently, we have gone from 30,000 to 45,000 people massacred in Iran. What is the latest that you’ve heard from your end, from Iranian sources?SAHAR DELIJANI:I’m hearing the same numbers, I’ve heard anything from 20,000 to 30,000 to 40,000. It’s really hard to verify for the people on the ground and for people human rights organizations, even though I know that they’re working around the clock to be able to identify bodies, but the regime is really trying as much as it can to repress the information coming out. We are even hearing news of mass graves, of bodies that were just taken from the morgues and never seen again. We hear news of families that have been just going from morgue to morgue, station to station, hospital to hospital, looking for their loved ones, and they still haven’t found them.We hear news of doctors who were helping the wounded who are now imprisoned under the charge of collaborating with Israel or waging war against God, which is one of the charges that usually Islamic Republic uses to push for execution. Terrible news coming out from all these small towns, all these areas in Iran where thousands of people have been killed, and a lot of them with gunshot wounds at close range in their chest or their neck or their heads.So it’s an absolute to nightmare. I don’t even know what the right word is, but it’s one of the biggest slaughters of civil uprising we’ve ever seen in our recent history.CÉLINE:Thank you. And I know that now everyone is watching, holding their breath for what is potentially a US intervention. The situation is escalating. There are the people of Iran are facing their own government oppression, and they might be also under US bombs. Do you have any family members in Iran? How are you coping with the news, and what are the best ways to follow what’s happening now closely on the ground?SAHAR DELIJANI:Yes, I do have family and friends, and it’s just devastating that they are now sort of trapped between these two absolutely brutal forces. One is the Islamic Republic on the ground, just slaughtering its own people. And then you know, the threat of wars and bombs and the devastation that we know it will bring. The tragedy is immense. I don’t even have the right words to talk about it. Iranian people have worked so hard in the past 30-40 years to be able to build a democratic society, to be able to have freedom for everyone, for minorities, for women, for a society to be built on equality and justice.This isn’t the first time the Iranian people have been fighting against this regime — this has been a long, long fight, and I feel like it has reached a point of no return. We will not be the same people. I am not the same person as I was just a few days, few weeks back. And you know, this is also, in some ways, the story of our of our region. There’s just too much blood, too much violence, and there’s this open wound that had been in Iran since the 80s, with the mass executions of political prisoners, including my own family members, and that wound was still open, and now we have this we have this slaughter. Our region needs and deserves something more than wars or dictatorship. We deserve to be able to fight for what we want. We deserve to be able to live in safe societies, to live in dignity, to live in freedom, and the right to fight for it.CÉLINE:An attack on Iran is an attack on the region, on the Iranian people, first and foremost, but also has repercussions on the entire region. A lot of people think that the Iranian government is holding the Palestinian cause, and is the only force that has been against Israel. How is it looking like from your perspective, as someone who is understanding of the Palestinian cause and seeing what’s happening and unfolding today?SAHAR DELIJANI:I think any attack on any country in the region is an attack on the region. I don’t think this is only about valid for Iran. When Iraq was attacked, it was an attack on the region, when Afghanistan was attacked, when it was an attack on the region, all of our fates are intertwined, they’re not separate from each other. They’re not isolated. I do not believe that the Iranian regime has been fighting for the Palestinian cause. I believe that, yes, the Iranian regime is the enemy of Israel. That doesn’t mean that it has the Palestinian cause in its heart. It only means that it has its own geopolitical interest and advancements that it wants to push forward.It wants more power and more influence in the region. And it uses the Syrian civil war, it uses the opportunities it has in Iraq, and throughout the region, it’s only pushing forward its own agenda. I think that is very important to note also, because a country that has been torturing and killing its own people, how could it liberate another people?What does that liberation even look like when we talk about America bringing this rhetoric of liberation, why don’t we believe it? Because we know what it means, because we’ve seen it historically, and we also see what it does to its own people. If an American power that speaks of liberation for the Iranian does this to its own people—kills them in broad daylight, their shoots them in the face, in their car, or arrest protesters, abducts people. Same goes for Iran and Palestine. What kind of liberation does Iran have in mind for Palestine, if it’s killing its own people, if it’s repressing its own people?I believe that anti war movements, anti imperialist movements must go hand in hand with anti dictatorship movements and pro democracy movements. Otherwise, it’s just empty shells, it changes nothing for the people on the ground. We need to want the same things for everyone, we can’t pick and choose whose liberation we want or whose repression is okay for now, no one’s repression is okay. Because I think more everybody wants the same thing. We might have different ways of expressing it, but people want to live in dignity and safety and equality, right? Everybody wants that, so we need to listen to them, instead of imposing our own geopolitical agendas or our own interpretation of the region, without listening to the people living that reality.CÉLINE:Absolutely. How can a dictator that is also violating the rights of their own constituents and their own citizens in the United States, such as Donald Trump, want the best for Iranians? That’s where the cognitive dissonance happens online when we have members of the Iranian diaspora who are calling for US intervention, and in that same breath, harassing or attacking or creating a campaign against anyone who is raising a flag that US intervention might not lead to liberation for Iranian people. US intervention has a track record of being disastrous, from Iraq to Afghanistan to what’s going on in Venezuela around the world, wherever the United States came in to “save” it never really ended up being for the people. How do you make sense of this call for US intervention?SAHAR DELIJANI:I think in the diaspora, we have a responsibility not to call for more violence, especially when we’re not going to be the victims of that violence, not being in Iran ourselves. Because when we say no bombs, no intervention in Iran, we mean it for everybody. But the people in Iran who are asking for [US military intervention] are not just completely crazy—just think about the reality that the extremely difficult, violent reality that the Iranian regime, the Islamic Republic, has made for people, that they’ve reached a point that they’re thinking, “Oh, maybe bombs, at least would save us from this violence.”People who have lived through a tragedy, a massacre of 30,000 people in just a few days, you know, there is just so much pain. There’s so much pain, okay, but you’re saying, you know that the foreign intervention is dangerous, but look at what is happening to us now. The only way we are credible to the people on the ground if we want to stand against this sort of imperialist interventions and forces, is if we stand as strongly against the dictators that are killing them. Now, if we are just a little bit hesitant, even a tiny bit hesitant, to stand against those dictators, we are being huge hypocrites, and nobody will believe us. Nobody will believe that we have their liberation in mind when we stand against imperialist intervention. You are just telling us to choose between two types of killings. We need to stand against all types of oppression, no matter who’s doing it. It’s not about who does it, it’s about what we can do to bring it to an end."
}
]
}
